


Ace

by realisticallycynical



Category: Haikyuu!!, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Crossover, Family Feels, Found Family, Gen, In the Beginning, Minor Character Death, Slice of Life, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, also mild, leading to a Haiba Lev Protection Squad, mentions of past bullying, side kuroken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-05 05:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realisticallycynical/pseuds/realisticallycynical
Summary: It's no secret that Lev has a fairly good life. Honestly, though,noneof the team was prepared for the family that came with that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkyGem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyGem/gifts).



“ _Yuu_ -ri,” Victor croons, gently running his fingers through his husband’s hair. “It’s late. You’re practically falling over. Let’s go to bed?”

Yuuri protested sleepily. “But my sister…”

“She’ll call later. I’ll leave the ringer on,” Victor assures him, steering him toward the bed.

Mari had promised to be their first phone call of the new year, since they’d landed too late to go home. Their hotel in Tajiri was an eight hour drive from Yutopia, too far to even attempt at nearly one in the morning. Still, Yuuri demanded to stay up and wait for his sister’s call. It’s been a long season; Yurio is getting older, trying frantically to get just a few more record breaking seasons in before his inevitable retirement. They haven’t had a break in months, between coaching and international competitions, so it’ll be nice when they finally get home.

Somehow, Victor manages to wrangle Yuuri into bed, despite his current status as deadweight. Neither of them is overweight, despite being retired; they keep in shape, but they’re by no means obsessive over it the way they used to be.

They’ve only been asleep for maybe an hour or two when the phone rang. Victor feels along the nightstand blearily and slides the green icon to the left, putting the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he mumbles. “Mari?”

The voice that comes through the receiver isn’t Mari’s. It isn’t even a Katsuki’s voice. The voice that comes through the receiver is professional, but just sympathetic enough to send chills down Victor’s spine. “Is this Victor Nikiforov-Katsuki?”

“Katsuki-Nikiforov,” he corrects automatically. “Speaking. Who are you?”

“My name is Hattori Akari, I’m calling from Fukuda Hospital. I apologize for the late hour, but we need you to come in immediately–” A cry comes through the phone, drowning out whatever she says next, and sending a shard of ice through Victor’s heart. He  _knows_ that wail.

“Alisa? Is that my niece– I mean my cousin, is she okay? Where’s her brother? Her parents?” A call from the hospital in the dead of night is anyone’s worst nightmare. But a call from the hospital when he can hear his four year old first-cousin-once-removed (who may as well be his niece) in the background and not anyone to comfort her is his own personal hell.

Where is Karolina? What on earth is the Haiba family doing in a hospital at four in the morning on New Years Day?

Vaguely, he hears the woman saying something that sounds like a sincere but ultimately still pointless platitude and another request that he come in immediately, as the children’s emergency contact _(oh god that means little Lev is there too, what the hell is going on, why aren’t they telling him anything, where is his cousin)_ and everything will be explained upon his arrival for purposes of confidentiality.

He blinks in the darkness after hanging up and feels Yuuri sit up next to him.

“Is everything alright, Vitya? You sounded upset. Is Alisa okay?” He sounds sleepy, but alert.

Victor just looks at him for a moment, feeling helpless, before grabbing his keys.

Not even twenty minutes later, they pull into the parking lot of Fukuda Hospital. Luckily, it wasn’t far from their hotel; the Haibas live in the Kumamoto prefecture, near Victor and Yuuri’s hotel. Victor bursts through the door with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop, disturbing a few people dozing in the waiting room and earning himself a few scathing looks. He can’t bring himself to care, though, as he rushes over to the front desk.

“Haiba Karolina, Haiba Shin, and their children, are they okay?”

He gives his name when prompted, and Yuuri’s too, when he arrives a moment later. They’re ushered through the double doors on the left and Victor is reminded of how much he hates the antiseptic-sick-clean-death smell of hospitals when he’s hit facefirst with it.

The sound of meaningless babbling alerts him to the kids before he sees them. Without warning, he speeds up, passing the doctor and turning the corner quickly.

“Uncle Vitya?” It’s Alisa who notices him first, glossy tear tracks staining her face despite her now dry eyes. But while Alisa is the first to see him, Lev is the closest, toddling over to him on tiny, unsteady feet.

Victor scoops him up into his arms, feeling one of the many weights he’s carrying drop from his chest. Alisa attaches herself to his leg, looking infinitely more relaxed now that there was an adult she trusted in the room. That’s when he notices the look on the face of the nurse that’s presumably been watching them.

He knows, in that instant, what’s happened. Why they called him for the  _children_ , and why him, instead of his father.

And Victor knows better than to think he can stop his heart from shattering, from shredding itself into pieces that may not ever be whole again, but he can encase them in ice, stop the pain from showing itself in his face.

Victor may not be good at much, but he’s always been a bit of a prodigy when it comes to the ice.

“Alisochka, love,” he says, being very, very careful to keep his voice steady and, if not cheerful, at least neutral, “I need you to be good for the nurse for a few more minutes, okay? Just a little longer. I’ll take care of everything.”

She blinks up at him and nods, trusting him completely in a way that physically hurts. “Lev too?”

Victor looks down into Lev’s clear green eyes. On one hand, he doesn’t want to let either of them out of his sight; they’re his family and more importantly, he’s their only family for five thousand miles. On the other hand, this isn’t something they should be there to hear.

He looks at Yuuri, sure that his heart is in his eyes in a way that only he has ever been able to read. He can’t make this choice, inconsequential as it is. It’s too much.

Then, as Yuuri opens his mouth to say something, little Lev plants a big, drooly kiss on Victor’s cheek and giggles, blowing bubbles with his own spit.

The tension doesn’t break, and the pain in Victor’s chest doesn’t ease even slightly, but for a moment it’s easier to pretend that everything is fine and his heart isn’t about to overflow.

“Lev too,” Yuuri says quietly, reading Victor’s eyes like a book. He gently pries the baby out of Victor’s arms and passes him to the nurse. Lev wails quietly for a moment before settling down. Victor gives Alisa his phone to watch videos and play games for as long as they’re handling… whatever they need to handle.

The doctor that brought them in leads Victor and Yuuri to his office. As soon as he’s sitting, Victor asks a question he knows he doesn’t want the answer to.

“My little cousin… Is she…”

The doctor shakes his head solemnly, looking apologetic. “The wounds she and her husband sustained from the crash were too severe for us to…”

Victor doesn’t hear him, can’t hear him over the sound of his world crashing down around him. His little cousin is in one of these rooms. His little cousin, the closest thing he’s ever had to a sibling, is lying on one of these hospital beds.

He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until he’s choking on nothing. Yuuri is gripping his hand tightly, looking grim but determined.

“No, the system isn’t an option. We’re their godparents, we’ll bring them home. End of story,” he says simply.

Victor manages to pull himself together long enough to sign the papers that need to be signed. At some point while the paperwork is being processed, Yuri shows up, looking uncharacteristically somber. Yuuri probably called him earlier, Victor realizes vacantly, balancing a sleeping Lev in his arms as Alisa shifts in her sleep momentarily from her seat at his side.

Yuri tells them that he picked up two car seats from some department store around the corner. Victor wants to ask which department store is open this late before realizing that it’s well after six in the morning.

It’s more than an hour later that the immediate paperwork goes through and they can go home with the newest additions to their household.

They get the carseats installed with some difficulty; they’re fairly complicated contraptions and besides getting a little less than six hours of sleep between the three of them (with the lion’s share of that going to Yuri), they’re all pretty badly jetlagged.

But it doesn’t take long to get them home after that; they get back to the hotel in under half an hour and put the kids in the bed. Lev immediately reaches out unconsciously, looking for a body to curl up with and finding Alisa, and Victor is reminded of how little he is. He still sleeps–  _slept_. He still  _slept_ with his parents.

That thought is all it takes to break the dam that Victor carefully erected around his heart when he had to be strong for the kids. Yuuri is a gentle presence at his side and Yuri’s hand on his shoulder is grounding. So, clinging to these sensations, Victor weeps.

The three of them fall asleep together on the couch soon after Victor’s eyes dry out. Mari’s call at 8:13 goes unanswered.


	2. Chapter 2

The conversation they eventually had to have with the children is hardly easy, and it takes a long time for the idea that  _Mama and Papa aren’t coming home_ to really sink in with Alisa _._

She doesn’t take the news well, of course. She demands to know why her uncles won’t let her and he brother go home and see their parents, and throws a tantrum when they try to explain why that isn’t really possible. She resolutely refuses to talk to them for days at a time, beyond telling them when she’s hungry.

Lev is a little easier, still too small to fully grasp the concept of time, but he has times when he’ll wail inconsolably for hours because Yuuri and Victor’s arms aren’t the arms of his parents. Luckily, these instances are few and far between.

They had already been thinking about moving to Tokyo to have easier access to the larger rinks for their students. But now that they’re parents (and isn’t  _that_ just a word and a half) and they have the option, they want to send the kids to the best schools available. Alisa is going to be starting primary school soon, and they refuse to make that transition harder than it has to be by putting her into a mediocre school.

Alisa and Victor heal, slowly but surely. They bond through skating, which she always had an interest in. She’s wobbly at first, of course, but she takes to the ice as naturally as Victor did at that age.

While the two of them goof off on the rink every day after Yuri finishes practice, Yuuri sits on the floor with Lev, rolling a small ball back and forth and making up silly games.

In fact, it’s at the rink that Lev says his first word.

He’s sitting by the bleachers with Yuri, since Yuuri is across the rink with Victor while they talk through some logistics for dinner, since Yuri is going to stay over tonight.

Yuri’s voice rings out to them from the other side of the rink. “Oi! You assho– idiots might want to get over here.”

Victor is immediately on alert, having dealt with Lev getting too curious for his own good and hurting himself too many times to count in the six months they’ve had him. He and Yuuri bolt over and Alisa glides to their side of the rink, practicing her stopping.

His worries give way to elation when Lev’s voice peals out a petulant-sounding  _“Papa.”_

He and Yuuri coo at the same time, then look at each other.

“Which one of us is he asking for?” Yuuri wonders.

Victor thinks Lev is asking for him, Yuuri thinks the opposite. They bicker for a few minutes before Lev gurgles unhappily.

“Papa!” he says more urgently, reaching for Victor. He grins triumphantly at his husband, who rolls his eyes fondly.

As it happens, Lev just had a dirty diaper. Yuri laughs in Victor’s face about that for years.

The kids grow up and it’s hard to believe how fast time flies. It feels like Victor blinks and Lev is just starting out in middle school. Alisa is placing in the junior figure skating league, making a name for herself globally as the next Yuri Plisetsky, the new top student working under  _the_ Victor Nikiforov.

 _The_ Victor Nikiforov was barely 29 when they brought Alisa and Lev home for good, and now, sending thirteen year old Lev to a well-rounded middle school in Tokyo, he’s feeling a bit old and weepy.

Well, the weepy bit may have something to do with the fact that he and Yuuri can’t be there to send him off because of Alisa’s competition. Yuri is driving him to school at least for today since Lev is, frankly, terrible with directions, and the rest of his family won’t be home for another week and a half. All three of them are video chatting him to make up for it, despite the ungodly time of morning in Spain right now.

“Don’t worry about it, Dad!” Lev says brightly, expertly navigating the kitchen as the laptop sits static on the counter. He moves in and out of range of the camera sometimes, but generally stays where they can see him. “You can still make it to the conferences in a few months, nothing happens the first week anyway.”

“It’s still important,” Victor pouts.

Yuuri smacks him gently before turning back to the camera. “Are you excited, at the very least?”

“Oh yeah! Apparently this school has great sports programs, and it’s super close to home, and..” he rambles on in true Lev fashion, wondering for the third year in a row if he’s going to be the tallest boy in his grade again. Victor is sure he is; Lev hits growth spurts more than any other child he’s ever seen. He’s nearly as tall as his Uncle Yuri now, and he’s only thirteen.

When he starts fretting about his grades, as he tends to at the beginning of every year, it’s Yuuri that speaks up softly. “You’ll do fine, Lev. You’re a smart boy, and you care about your studies. That’s a good combination.”

Lev beams at him with that smile that makes him so loved by so many, and a natural in the spotlight. “Thanks, Dad.”

People frequently tell Victor how much Lev resembles what he was like at that age. He never fails to correct them; while Victor was always charismatic, he was rarely  _happy_. It took him a long time to be able to have the level of genuinity that Lev comes across naturally.

Something slams in the background and Lev giggles. “Uncle Yuri is awake. Gotta go, guys!”

“We love you!” the three of them chorus, as they always do.

Lev beams at them. “I love you too!”

Just before he hangs up, Victor, Yuuri, and Alisa can hear Yuri grumbling loudly from the other room.

It had taken them (Victor, mostly) a long time to be able to leave either of their kids alone for longer than a night or two, even with Yuri staying behind to watch them. But when Alisa had started qualifying for skating competitions and travelling, Victor and Yuuri needed to go with her, as her coaches. That meant full weeks of time when Lev was forced to stay home with Yuri so he didn’t miss school.

Victor still doesn’t like it, but they’ve all gotten more used to it. Too used to it. He doesn’t like thinking about how easily Lev manages their kitchen on his own now, or how Yuri spends more time at their house than their own.

They spend as much time together as they can when they’re all home, though, and that seems to be enough, for now. It’s not forever. He swears it.

* * *

Lev waves cheerfully at his uncle and holds out a cup of coffee as a peace offering. 

Yuri grumbles, but accepts it. “You’ve been awake too long, kid.”

“I’m excited!” He turns back to the stove and pokes at his eggs gently. They’re nearly done.

“You packed last night, right?” Yuri is the furthest thing from fatherly– Lev is still Victor and Yuuri’s kid, but he’s been watching Lev grow up too; he knows the tricks by now, especially now that he has a cup of coffee in hand. 

Lev nods and moves his food to his plate carefully. He knows Yuri well enough to know that he won’t eat anything.

The way his hands shake a bit is a dead giveaway to how nervous he really is about this new school, but Yuri can’t do much about that without overstepping his bounds. He sips his coffee and waits for Lev to finish eating so he can load the both of them in the car and get his surrogate nephew to  ~~prison~~  school, Yuri meant school.

“Hey, kid,” he says as Lev turns to descend the stairs to his new school.

Lev turns around in surprise. “Yeah?”

Yuri chews the inside of his cheek uncertainly. “You’ll do fine. If anyone gives you shit for being tall this year, kick their ass.”

He gets a startled laugh in response. “You know I won’t. But thanks, Uncle Yura. I’ll see you later.”

Lev’s long legs take him through the door before Yuri has a chance to respond.


	3. Chapter 3

His son is sixteen when he discovers volleyball, and Yuuri couldn’t be more happy when he does.

Lev has always been a tall boy, would have been gawky if he hadn’t been an enthusiastic member of their family of athletes. So while he isn’t exactly gawky, the way his peers are during puberty, he has always been a little intimidating. It didn’t make him many friends in school, though that was combated somewhat by his almost terrifying friendliness.

He’s drawn in so many people, and he has more acquaintances that Yuuri wonders sometimes how he keeps track of them all, but so few true friends that it breaks Yuuri’s heart. He spends most of his time trying to figure out where he fits in, and what he likes.

There’s no doubt in Victor’s mind that if Lev really wanted, he could be a top figure skater. He’s got the physique and the command over his body that it requires, despite his impressive height. That’s largely because he spends so much time working out with the rest of them.

Unfortunately, there’s no doubt in  _Yuuri’s_ mind that no matter how much Lev loves skating– and he does, he  _adores_ it –it’s not what he wants to do with his life. Even if he hadn’t said anything himself, which he has, Lev skates like someone who loves skating for what it is, rather than as a competitive sport. He skates lazily, for fun rather than for practice. His jumps are crisp and clean, much to his sister’s dismay more often than not, but Lev doesn’t feel the music in his bones the way the rest of them do. He’s always been buzzing with energy rather than humming with it.

But when he comes home from school in his third year at middle school, clutching a volleyball with a  _blinding_ smile and a hopeful glint in his eye Yuuri’s never seen before, he can feel his heart soar.

He knows next to nothing about volleyball, to be completely honest; he had no idea that tall, lithe players were at an advantage in a way that they weren’t in a lot of other sports. He’d never have thought to suggest it to Lev, but the way he lights up when Yuuri agrees to watch a match with him before his Dad, sister, and Uncle Yuri get home makes him wonder exactly why not.

It’s too late in the school year for Lev to gain anything from joining his school’s volleyball team, but Yuuri and Victor promise to help him however he needs. Alisa is a little more skeptical, telling Yuuri that “You’ve heard about it, but I’ve  _seen_ how the kids at school treat him, Dad. I’m not sure volleyball is going to be the way to fix it.”

Still, she supports her brother and works out with him and their parents. Yurio whips Lev’s arms and core into shape when he isn’t busy training himself. Yuuri would never let Yurio hear him say it, but his spartan upper body training (“because a good spiker needs to be flexible, dummy”) reminds Yuuri a lot of Lilia.

It’s not uncommon, nowadays, for Yuuri, Victor, and Alisa to come home from a competition to find Yurio, Otabek, and Lev in the backyard, practicing Lev’s admittedly powerful spikes. The rest of them join in when they can, playing friendly three on three games with no real semblance of rules.

Yuuri asked Lev once how his uncles were able to help him practice so much. To his complete surprise, it was mostly Otabek.

“Uncle Beka has a friend who plays volleyball.” Lev sounds excited to be able to talk about his uncle’s friend. “He’s my age and he has a friend who’s a lot like Uncle Yuri–”  
  
“Wait, slow down Lev.” Yuuri smiles at his son’s enthusiasm. “How did Otabek meet him?”

Lev shrugs. “He won’t say but Uncle Yuri says it’s from one of those aesthetic blogs he loves so much and when I found out about volleyball he reached out to this guy because he knew he played and Uncle Beka is famous on Instagram so the guy was really happy to help!”

It takes Yuuri a moment to decipher the rambling, as it always does, but once he does, he resists the urge to chuckle. It’s an awkward way to help, since it would have been much easier to just get some books, but awkward, well-meaning help always has been Otabek’s style.

“Your uncle hasn’t let you meet this boy in person, right?” Yuuri trusts Otabek and Yuri, but he has to double check; the internet can be a wonderland, but it can also be a dangerous place.

Lev shakes his head. “I’ve talked to him a few times through DMs and Uncle Beka’s facetime though! He’s a lot like you! And he has this friend who sounds  _exactly_ like Uncle Yuri, it’s so weird! And they even act the same, too! But they live all the way in Miyagi and they’re still in school too so they wouldn’t be able to come visit anyway. They said they’d be joining a volleyball team in high school too, so maybe I’ll be able to play against them–”

Aaaand he’s lost him. Yuuri smiles fondly, infinitely happy that Lev has finally found something he loves doing enough to ramble on about. For the rest of them it’s always been ice skating, but Yuuri knows Lev has always been destined for different things.

There’s only a month before Lev goes on vacation, and then he’ll be a high school student. It’s hard to believe when it feels like no time at all has passed since the night they brought the kids home. But now Alisa is about to graduate high school and Lev is about to start and yeah, it really has been fourteen years.

Yuuri is looking forward to a lifetime more, especially now that everything is falling into place.

* * *

**_~Two Months Earlier~_ **

“Ooh, how pretty!” Tadashi snaps a picture of the rose in the neighbor’s yard from a few different angles, then he put his phone right under his friend’s nose. “Tsukki, look!”

Tsukki rolls his eyes, but glances at the photos. “They’re alright.”

Which is Tsukishima-speak for  _those are fantastic, great job Yamaguchi,_  and Tadashi beams, opening his editing app and putting a few filters over the image to give it a dreamy quality before posting it.

The notification icon blinks red at him, showing that he has…

 _Whoa_.

Nine hundred and seventy two new followers, seven thousand seven hundred and seventy six likes, and two thousand nine hundred sixteen comments.

Tadashi nearly drops his phone when he finally gets to the bottom of today’s notifications, seeing what sparked all this. There, in stark black print, is the notification that started it all.

 _@altin_beka_   **started following you. 6h**

 _@russian_ice_tiger_   **started following you. 1h**

“Tsu… Tsukki?” Tadashi asks, feeling faint, “Can you punch me in the face? Please? I think I’m dreaming.”

The fact that Tsukki just blinks at him in confusion instead attests to how close they are, because Tadashi  _knows_ he wouldn’t hesitate with most other people. “Yamaguchi. I’m only going to ask this once. What the hell?”

Tadashi shoves the phone into Tsukki’s face, feeling a little hysterical. “Otabek Altin followed me! Yuri Plisetsky too! Why? Why would they even know I exist? How did they find my account? Tsukki, who  _am_ I?”

Tsukki blinks again, looking annoyed. Then he sighs his trademarked  _you moron_ sigh and Tadashi gratefully feels a little less like he’s in a dream.  

“Isn’t that the old skater guy whose life you stalk? Maybe he just finally noticed it and threw you a bone.” Tsukki slowly pushes the phone away from his face.

Tadashi spends the next few minutes staring at it in disbelief, much to Tsukki’s irritation. That isn’t ideal, because it hurts Tadashi’s chest when Tsukki is upset with him, but he can’t help being preoccupied.

He really  _does_ drop it when a DM comes in from Otabek, asking bluntly if Tadashi will teach him the basics of volleyball for his nephew.


	4. Chapter 4

Some days, Kenma really, really loves Kuro. Kuro is amazing in a lot of ways, and there are several occasions Kenma can remember that he was– and still is –incredibly grateful to be with him. **  
**

Now is not one of those times.

“You’ll get it back when you greet the first years,” Kuro says, holding Kenma’s PSP above his head, just out of reach.

Kenma stands on his toes, jumping up a little in a futile attempt to get it back. When Kuro just lifts it higher in response, he scowls. “I really, really, hate this.”

“I love you too,” Kuro says without missing a beat, pocketing the console with a grin. “But you’re their senpai now and that means you have a responsibility to them, just like me!”

“What a crappy senpai,” Kenma says quietly, trying not to let his voice shake. It’s a yellow day, edging closer and closer to orange the more he thinks about having to talk in front of so many people.

Kuro’s face softens anyway, like he knows exactly how Kenma is feeling. He probably does, but he lets the act go on; he’s always known Kenma’s limits and stays well within them without coddling him. “I’ll have you know I’m a fantastic senpai. You just don’t count.”

And, well, Kenma can’t really argue with that. He and Kuro have never let the single year between them affect their friendship, and besides, Kenma has always hated power dynamics based on age anyway. Kuroo Tetsurou may seem like the smooth, talented powerhouse blocker of Nekoma, but Kenma knows better; he’s a massive nerd who drools in his sleep and cries at romantic comedies.

Which makes it even more annoying that he’s pulling rank for the first (but definitely not the last, Kenma knows better) time this year, trying to make Kenma step out of his comfort zone and interact with the new kids. Objectively, it’s important. But right now, it feels like a prison sentence.

Said kids are lined up on the other side of the court awkwardly, waiting for the second and third years. Well, waiting for Kenma.

Because  _that’s_ not anxiety-inducing.

“I’ll tell you what,” Kuro says, still gently pushing Kenma’s limits– because he  _has_ to, because next year he won’t  _have_ Kuro to act as a buffer, “I’ll take you out to eat after practice if you play nice with the babies.”

Kenma glares at him. Kuro  _knows_ what’s going to happen if he forces Kenma to talk in front of these people, teammates or not, but  _Kenma_ knows that as captain, he can’t show favoritism.

“I’ll even get a pie,” Kuro bargains.

Kenma raises an eyebrow. He knows that Kuro knows he’ll have to do better than that after barely skirting death (that is, plucking Kenma’s PSP directly out of his hands in the middle of a boss battle) and trying to rope him into a public introduction.

Kuro sighs, giving in. “Ah, the neutral face of displeasure. Alright, you win. I’ll get you pie  _and_ a week’s worth of mochi.”

For a moment, Kenma considers the terms and he can pretend it’s almost okay. “Two weeks. And if you ever touch my PSP again I’m ignoring you for a month.”

“Deal.” The grin returns in full force and Kuro drags him over to the three first years and the rest of the team.

Kenma stands there awkwardly as Kuro introduces himself. “Afternoon, everyone! You’ve already met Kai and Yaku, and the rest of the team by now. I’m Kuroo Testurou, you’re benighted leader and captain, feel free to call me Kuroo-senpai or Supreme Leader Kuroo. I look forward to working with you all to get to nationals!”

He knows he’s next, and his heart is pounding faster and faster with every passing second. He knows Kuro, knows that he wouldn’t ask Kenma to talk to this many people if he didn’t _absolutely know_  he could do it, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

The first years all chorus various versions of “we look forward to working with you” at once. The giant silver one is particularly excitable, and Kenma resolves to stay far, far away from him.

“And this tiny kitten is the brain and beating heart of our team!” Kuro says, patting Kenma on the head. “Say hi, Kenma.”

Kenma blinks slowly, giving himself a moment to mentally prepare. “I’m Kozume Kenma. Second year. Setter.”

That should be enough, he hopes, shoving his hands in the pockets of his gym shorts and looking at the floor. His hair falls into his face, obscuring everyone from view. He can hear his pulse, and not in a good way. He knows the first years are staring at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he  _can’t–_

Kuro’s hand slides from the top of Kenma’s head to his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly.  _Breathe,_  he’s saying.  _You did good. I’ll handle this._

“Haiba and Inuoka, you’ll be working pretty closely with Kenma since he’s the starting setter,” Kuro says, not removing his hand from Kenma’s shoulder. “Shibayama, you two won’t be doing much training together. Kenma isn’t great with receives the way you are.”

“I have a question!” Kenma can’t place the voice without looking up, but the energy and volume lead him to think it’s the silver giant. “What do you mean, brain?”

Kenma fidgets, wringing his hands restlessly in lieu of not having his console. He’s never loved the nickname of “brain,” no matter how accurate it might be. It’s a lot of pressure.

Luckily, Kuro knows this too. “You’ll see eventually, Haiba.”

After that, practice runs about the same as it normally does. The only difference this time is that Kuro lets Kenma sit out the first twenty minutes with his PSP, handing the console to him with a small but genuine (for once) smile and a whispered “I’m proud of you.”

He sits with Kenma for the first few minutes to make sure he’s okay, then joins in because for all the hell Kenma gives him, he’s actually a great captain.

After practice, Kenma is only a little less shaky. That doesn’t mean, though, that he really thinks he’s able to talk to anyone yet. Of course, the universe decides not to give him a break. He’s waiting for Kuro to finish changing when the silver giant runs up to him.

“Kozume-san! Would you toss to me? We didn’t get a chance to practice together today!”

Haiba Lev is tall. That’s the first thing Kenma noticed from the beginning, and it’s the first thing he notices now. He’s massive and energetic and happy and so, so  _loud_.

Kenma resists the urge to flinch away because Haiba is just being friendly and he knows that. So instead he shakes his head and lets his hair fall into his eyes. He can’t bring himself to talk.

Luckily, Taketora seems to notice Kenma’s discomfort and comes to his rescue. “Lev! Come help me clean up the court!”

“Of course!” Haiba turns toward him before seeming to remember himself. “Maybe next time, Kozume-san?”

He sounds so hopeful that Kenma can’t help but nod, still staring at the floor. How could he say no when the guy sounds like Kenma tossing to him is a dream come true?

Lev cheers– _so loud be quiet be quiet be **quiet**_ –and goes over to help Taketora pick up the gym.

“He’s a good kid, and he has a lot of potential. A hell of a spiker too.”

At the unexpected sound of Kuro’s voice, Kenma jumps about a foot in the air. Kuro holds up his hands in a silent apology.

“I think you’ll like him a lot once you get used to him,” he says. “Don’t you?”

It takes a moment for Kenma to think it over, but he eventually nods silently. Loud though Haiba may be, he’s well-meaning. Kenma hopes they’ll be able to coexist. Maybe even become friends.  

Kuro shoulders his bag and looks at Kenma carefully before holding out his hand. “How are you doing?”

Kenma doesn’t move for a moment, then reaches out and taps Kuro’s hand three times.  _Orange_.

Orange is worse than yellow, better than red. Orange means quiet, it means slow, it means touch but not too much. Kuro knows this, and he knows that it’s been a yellow day and Kenma knows he knows why it’s orange now.

“Do you still want to go to the cafe today?”

After a long moment, Kenma shakes his head. He wants to sleep somewhere that’s quiet and free of too-loud, too-happy silver giants that want Kenma to toss for him.

“Okay. Okay, let’s get you home.” Kuro holds out his hand, the sight a little blurry through the curtain of straw-colored hair obscuring Kenma’s vision.

He doesn’t have to look up when Kuro leads him like this, which is the reason they do it. They barely make it outside when the door opens again behind them and the giant rushes through toward the parking lot.

“Uncle Yuri!” he yells in excitement, and Kenma can’t hold back his flinch at the loud noise. Kuro squeezes his hand comfortingly.

Haiba rambles on about how amazing his first practice was, growing quieter and quieter as Kenma and Kuro keep walking. As they walk the familiar path back to Kuro’s house, because it’s closer, Kenma thinks that yeah, he’s really grateful to have Kuro.


	5. Chapter 5

Tetsurou has never exactly been one for rules, especially where Kenma is involved. That’s why he’s not surprised when, even though since he’s the captain it technically shouldn’t be happening, he finds himself with a favorite among the first years.

Lev is… a lot. He’s loud and all over the place on his best day, and he has a lot to learn about volleyball as well as tact (and yes, Tetsurou is aware of the irony of  _him_ thinking that thought, thanks). But he’s a lot smarter than the rest of the team gives him credit for.

One instance in particular proves this and cements him in as Tetsurou’s favorite.

It’s not as though Tetsurou isn’t used to dealing with Kenma-centered conflict on the team, especially after last year. He handles it as well as he’s able, explaining the situation to Nekomata and wheedling Kenma into presenting the note from his therapist that proves that no, he actually can’t force himself to practice sometimes without seriously messing himself up for hours if not days after the fact.

Nekomata doesn’t mind, he’s willing to leave it to Tetsurou and Kenma’s discretion since he knows that, “lazy” though Kenma may be, he doesn’t actually skip practice for the sake of skipping. The rest of their teammates aren’t always so understanding, at least at first. This seems to be the case with some of the first years, too.

Kenma isn’t at practice today; he hadn’t even come to school. When Tetsurou dropped by this morning to pick him up, it proved to be a red day, one of the more severe ones he’s had this year. Days like this, even Tetsurou isn’t welcome. He doesn’t take it personally anymore, just makes sure to check in throughout the day and drop by after school in case things change.

“I just don’t really think it’s fair to you spikers,” Shibayama says from across the gym. “Your setter randomly skips out on practice and no one is there to help you improve.”

It’s a reasonable enough concern, at least. They’re sweet kids, the first years. It’s not that they dislike Kenma the way the third years last year did; they just don’t really have a clue how someone like Kenma can be a starting player. Since they don’t know the whole story, Tetsurou can’t blame them.

“It’s a little annoying, but we need the practice with our recieves anyway so it doesn’t matter if our setter is a little lazy.” Inuoka laughs a bit, tossing a few volleyballs into the cart.

“If you say so.” Shibayama chuckles along with him (Inuoka has a fairly contagious laugh, to be fair), but Lev just blinks at his teammates in confusion.

“What do you mean, lazy? Kenma-san isn’t lazy at all!”

Shibayama and Inuoka look at him oddly, and Tetsurou stops what he’s doing to listen a little more intently. Lev never seemed like the sharpest kid, but maybe he hasn’t been giving credit where credit is due.

Inuoka is the first to respond. “How do you figure? He’s a nice guy, but he’s always on his phone or playing games. Sometimes he even leaves practice early for it.”

Lev cocks his head, presumably thinking, before turning to Tetsurou. “Captain! Doesn’t Kenma-san have anxiety?”

Tetsurou raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, why?”

He’d feel guilty for joining the conversation, but it’s not like Kenma’s anxiety is a secret. Besides, Lev figured it out first.

“Is that why he’s not here today?” There’s nothing behind the question but curiosity and concern.

“Yeah, it is.” Tetsurou is impressed, and the other two first years look like they’ve had a revelation, which is good. “That a problem?”

“Nope! Just wanted to know.” Lev smiles brightly and turns back to his friends. “See? He’s not lazy at all! He just has anxiety.”

The other two almost trip over themselves asking how Lev knew so much, since it’s fairly common knowledge that Kenma doesn’t really like him (not true, he just can’t always tolerate how loud Lev is).

“Oh, my dad has pretty bad anxiety too.” Lev throws the last few volleyballs into the crate before grabbing a broom. Then, suddenly, he spins around toward Tetsurou. “Captain! I have a question.”

Tetsurou looks up from his “on my way home” text to Kenma. “Yeah?”

“My uncle has to pick me up today, but he’s not on my contact list. Is that okay?”

“I mean… doesn’t he come pick you up most days anyway?” Tetsurou frowns in confusion.

Lev waves his hands quickly. “No, not that uncle! See, my dads are with Alisa at a competition in New York right now, and Uncle Yura had a last minute photoshoot so my Uncle Beka has to come get me but there was only room for three emergency contacts on the form so he’s not there and I don’t want that to be a problem since my dads are busy and can’t pick up the phone.”

Tetsurou blinks and takes a second to decipher the rambling, then belts out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s fine. It’s after hours anyway, so you don’t need to be signed out. That’s only  _during_ school, Lev.”

“Oh!” Lev looks surprised for a moment, then beams. “Thanks for telling me!”

“You’re hopeless, kid.” Tetsurou picks up another broom and gets off the bleachers. “Come on, back to work, you three. I’ll help out since I need to get going too.”

The three of them work in silence for a while, cleaning the floors and folding up the net. Then Shibayama pipes up. “Is your uncle a photographer, Lev?”

Lev laughs, and Tetsurou laughs with him. He’s seen Lev’s uncle, and there’s no way he’s the  _photographer_.

“No, he’s a model. Uncle Yuri is too prickly to be a very good photographer. I think I have a magazine with one of his spreads in it if you want to see.” At his friends’ excited nods, he finishes his section of the floor and trots over to his backpack.

Tetsurou can’t blame the first years for their curiosity. For as talkative as Lev is, none of them know much about him besides that he came from private school and is adopted. The three of them finish the floor by the time Lev comes back, holding a rolled up magazine.

“It’s last month’s!” he says proudly, flipping through it until he finds the page he wants and yep, there’s his uncle. Tetsurou can recognize him from the many, many times he’s picked Lev up from practice.

“Lev,” Inuoka says with wide eyes, “Can you flip to the cover?”

The boy cocks his head in confusion, but does as he’s asked. The word VOGUE is printed in big, bold letters across the top. “Why, do you like that actress or something?”

Tetsurou laughs and pats Lev on the shoulder. “You’re so oblivious, it’s adorable.”

Shibayama and Inuoka gape at the cover with jaws dropped. Tetsurou isn’t really surprised, though; he’s seen this guy before in person, on a regular basis, and he’s definitely Vogue material. They excuse themselves to the locker rooms to change, looking star struck. Lev is about to follow when his name is called out.

“Lev.” That’s a new voice that Tetsurou’s never heard before. He turns and sees a small man, about Kenma’s height. “Aren’t you changed yet?”

Lev turns and absolutely  _beams_ at the man. “Sorry! I was helping clean up. Just a few minutes, Uncle Beka!”

He disappears into the changing rooms, leaving Tetsurou alone with his uncle. The man is dressed warmly, to keep out the springtime chill.

Tetsurou holds out his hand cheerfully. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, team captain.”

“Otabek Altin– er, Altin Otabek.” He shakes Tetsurou’s hand.

 _Ah, a foreigner,_  Tetsurou thinks. He’s not particularly surprised; Lev’s family seems to be made up entirely of foreigners.

“I want to thank you,” Otabek says suddenly. “For helping Lev. There’s only so much help he can get with volleyball in a family of figure skaters. And.. thank you for being kind to him. We worry about him, after his experience in middle school.”

Tetsurou blinks in shock, not really sure how to handle this. “Of course. He’s a sweet kid, and he has a lot of raw talent. His enthusiasm helps the team a lot, too.”

Was that good adulting? He’s fairly sure that was good adulting. But what does Otabek mean, “after his experience in middle school?” Luckily, Lev picks that moment to bound out of the locker room with his duffel bag.

“Uncle Beka, did you bring the things?”

Otabek nods. “Your dad sent them, they just came in today.”

He reaches into his pocket and hands Lev two small objects, only to be attacked with a sudden bear hug. “Thank you!”

He doesn’t seem to notice or care about his uncle’s awkwardness and Tetsurou has to remind himself to  _adult_ and that when adulting, laughing like an idiot is generally frowned upon.

Then Lev spins toward him and presses the objects into Tetsurou’s hands. “For Kenma-san! Since he can’t play his game during matches, I asked my dad last week to find something that might help him.”

Tetsurou blinks in shock and looks down at the two objects in his hands. “Fidget cubes?”

“Yeah!” Lev points at them. “See, there’s a joystick side and a side with buttons and there’s one for each hand so he can pretend he’s playing games when he’s not on the court or when he’s in class or something! I thought it might make him feel better when he can’t play his games for real.”

Lev figured out Kenma’s anxiety a while ago, Tetsurou realizes. He wouldn’t have been able to get these so quickly otherwise, especially since his parents are in  _America_. He’s been  _planning_ this.

He thanks Lev and his uncle profusely before heading over to Kenma’s house. This time he’s allowed in, and Kenma clings to him, using Tetsurou to ground him. He’s said before that his therapist calls Tetsurou his “anchor,” and while he doesn’t really understand, Tetsurou is more than happy to be whatever Kenma needs him to be.

Which is why, when he sees the grateful, vulnerable look on his boyfriend’s face when Tetsurou gives him the present and explains its purpose, Lev cements his spot as Tetsurou’s favorite first year. 


	6. Chapter 6

Lev has been practically vibrating with excitement all day, and he knows the rest of the team has picked up on it. Yaku-san has been yelling at him for his terrible receives for a while now, and even the captain has said something about how Lev seems less present than usual. He can’t help it; worlds just finished, and his whole family is flying back in tonight. If he’s lucky, they’ll be home before he goes to sleep.

It’s been months since he’s seen his parents and sister in person. And as proud as he is of Alisa for working so hard and actually getting her first gold, he misses them.

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by a smack to the head. That’s the third ball he hasn’t dodged today, and it’s beginning to hurt a little. He grins sheepishly when Yaku-san scolds him for not paying attention.

Lev very vocally hates receiving drills, much to Yaku-san’s irritation. He can’t help it; he’s not used to being so close to the floor, and diving for the ball like this is mildly terrifying. It’s a massive relief when Coach Nekomata blows the whistle, calling it quits for the day.

Before they change though, Lev takes a chance. Their setter has been in a fairly good mood today, so…

“Kenma-san!”

Half the team groans, since they know what’s coming, but Lev continues anyway because he’s  _excited_.

“Toss for me?” Lev knows better than to expect anything in particular, but generally Kenma-san will deny his request. Occasionally he’ll say yes, but more often than not (especially at the end of practice) he’s denied.

To his infinite surprise, and apparently everyone else’s too, Kenma-san shrugs. “Sure. I’m not too tired today.”

He can’t help his loud whoop, which makes Kenma-san scowl and the captain laugh. Still, Kenma-san doesn’t go back on his offer and tosses to Lev for a while. One by one, the team leaves to go home until it’s just Lev, Yaku-san (who’s still seething about Lev’s complaints but secretly cares and Lev knows it), Kenma-san, and by default the captain, since there’s rarely one without the other.

Lev hasn’t been allowed to do much spiking practice for weeks, since the captain let Yaku-san take over his receiving training. It’s great to finally let loose and do what he’s good at for a while, at least until Uncle Yuri gets here to pick him up.

The captain will occasionally call out advice for the two of them.

“Kenma, that was too high even for Lev, tone it down a bit,” he says once.

Another time it’s “Lev, you’re jumping too early for Kenma to get the ball to you. It’s throwing off your timing as a team.”

There are a few mostly-playful jabs at his form as well, but that’s to be expected considering that he hasn’t done much practicing in weeks.

His aim is improving by leaps and bounds even without constant practice though, Lev is noticing. He’s making more and more powerful spikes and actually keeping them within the boundaries of the court, which is leaps and bounds better than he was a few weeks ago, when the semester began.

It seems like Kenma-san is tiring a bit; his set-ups are getting a little sloppier than usual. It took longer than Lev thought it would. Most of the time, Kenma-san tires of setting for Lev fairly quickly, since he has to send the ball up higher. Still, he keeps giving Lev tosses, so he’s not going to question it.

One particularly good set up lets Lev spike the ball hard, directly at the back of the court. Lev looks at the still-bouncing ball as it rolls under the bleachers, then down at his hand in wonder.

Someone claps once, a cheery sound. Then,  _“Wow! Amazing!”_

Lev whirls around so fast he nearly falls over. Everyone else’s head whips around too, but Lev is stunned into stillness.  _“Dad?”_

His dad– cousin, technically, but Victor Nikiforov is his dad no matter what his DNA says –waves at him with his signature heart-shaped grin. “Hi~!”

“Whoa, Lev, that’s your dad?” the captain sounds surprised, even as Kenma-san trots up to him holding the ball with both hands. “You two look exactly the same, what the he– heck?”

Lev ignores him and turns to Dad. “I thought you weren’t going to be home until later! Where are Papa and Alisa?”

He notices his father tense just barely at the mention of Papa, the way he always does when he doesn’t know how people will react. He relaxes almost instantly and Lev wonders if he’s just now noticing the captain and Kenma-san.   

“They’re fine, completely fine. They’re at home! I just wanted to surprise you!” Dad turns to the captain, Kenma-san, and Yaku-san. “I’’m Victor! Are you all on the team?”

Lev notices Kenma-san nudge the captain discreetly to get him to close his mouth. The captain clears his throat. “I– yeah. Yes. My name is Kuroo Tetsurou, I’m the captain. This is Ken– Kozume Kenma, our setter, and Yaku Morisuke, our libero. How long were you standing there, sir?”

Dad hums, tapping his finger against his chin thoughtfully. “Mmm… Since practice ended, I think. Everyone was leaving and staring at my car, then Lev, you didn’t come out so I came to find you.” He turns to Lev and grins. “You looked so focused, I wasn’t going to stop you.”

“We're… Kenma-san and I are finding our rhythm,” Lev manages to stay on topic for a moment before tackling his dad in a hug. “You’re home _early,”_  he mutters in wonder.

Dad nearly topples over (Lev is half a head taller than him now, he forgot) but keeps his balance and hugs him back. “Yep! We wanted to surprise you.”

The captain coos quietly to Kenma-san and Lev remembers the others.

“I uh, I should go home,” he tells them, disattaching himself from the hug. “It’s past six anyway.”

He gets a nod and a grin from the captain, who still has his arm around Kenma-san. “We should get going too, I have to make dinner since my parents are out.”

“Me too.” Yaku-san nods in agreement and Lev remembers that he lives alone. He looks thoughtful for a moment, muttering something about stopping at the grocery store on his way home.

Apparently, Dad isn’t done surprising Lev (which, now that he thinks about it, makes sense; that’s just how Dad is), because he grins at the other three. “Really? Then why don’t you all just come have dinner with us? We’d love to get to know Lev’s new friends!”

Lev beams when the upperclassmen awkwardly agree (and is even happier when none of them deny being friends with him; he worries sometimes, especially with Kenma-san and Yaku-san).

The glint in his father’s eye when the four of them pile into his bright pink convertible tells him that this was the plan all along.


	7. Chapter 7

Tetsurou won’t lie; he’s curious about this man, Lev’s father. He’s only ever met Lev’s uncles; usually it’s the blond, Yuri, but Otabek has shown up once or twice since that first time, and on one memorable occasion a man with even stranger hair than Kenma had shown up. Lev had (predictably) tackled him in a hug and introduced him as Uncle Kenjirou.

Honestly, Tetsurou has been starting to wonder if the kid’s parents are  _ever_ home, if he has so many uncles that seem to take care of him. But Lev seems happy enough, so he minded his own business.

Now they’re here. They’ve met one of Lev’s dads (he’s exactly what Tetsurou expected). Now they’re here, in the back of quite possibly the gayest car Tetsurou has ever had the privilege of  _seeing_ , much less sitting in, and they’re on their way to Lev’s  _house_ , which… come to think of it, none of them have seen in the month and a half they’ve known each other.

Yaku looks mightily uncomfortable, which is amusing enough in itself to make this trip worth it. Not to mention that since they’re being given a ride, Kenma has the chance to nap on Tetsurou’s shoulder without Tetsurou having to carry him.

He loves Kenma, he really does, but carrying him home when he’s dead asleep is a serious workout.

“Thank you again for all this, Haiba-san,” Tetsurou remembers to say, looking at the man as Kenma slumps on his shoulder, half asleep already.

“Thanks…” he murmurs in exhaustion.

Tetsurou knows he’s not imagining the way Lev and his father stiffen momentarily, and he wonders what he did wrong for the split second it takes for them to relax.

Lev’s dad waves him off with a light chuckle. “It’s nothing, not a problem at all! Lev never brings friends home. I’m Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov, by the way. Not Haiba. But you can all call me Victor!”

Oh. So that’s what he fucked up. The Haiba name is probably from Lev’s (and his sister’s, Tetsurou reasons) biological parents. “Ah, I’m sorry.”

Still, just like that time with Otabek, he gets the feeling that there’s more to Victor’s words than he lets on. Lev seems like the type of guy who would have had sleepovers and birthday parties held at his home whenever possible, but apparently not. Something just seems… off.

Victor keeps up a steady chatter with Lev as they drive, rambling about America and training and all the presents they got for him this time around. Lev responds with just as much enthusiasm, telling his father about his time at school and volleyball practice. Tetsurou occasionally chimes to playfully take him down a peg in if Lev oversells his skills.

It doesn’t take long for the car to stop, but when it did, Tetsurou isn’t exactly sure what he’s seeing. He’s always figured that Lev’s family was fairly well-off, especially since they were always off in other countries and his uncle was a model for the biggest fashion magazine in the world. But given the (admittedly small) amount of information he has about Victor, he was expecting something… flashier.

The house is incredibly nice, don’t get him wrong, but Tetsurou would have expected either a mansion or a cottage (because that’s the type of things rich people are into, right? pretending not to be rich?) and this place is neither. It’s modern, but blends in nicely with the neighborhood; had they not stopped in front of it, Tetsurou wouldn’t have thought it different from any other building on this street.

When Yaku, Lev, and Victor open their doors to get out of the car, Tetsurou nudges Kenma awake gently. “Hey. We’re here, come on.”

“Mm? Oh.” Kenma looks at him and blinks sleepily. “Ok.”

By the time they get out of the car, Lev is already unlocking the front door. Kenma wakes up fairly quickly, but sticks close to Tetsurou all the same. Tetsurou can’t blame him; from what they’ve been able to tell, Lev’s family members are very… unique. As long as they stick close together, Tetsurou can make them a quick getaway if it’s too much for Kenma.

“I’m home!” Lev announces cheerily, stepping in first. Victor follows and the rest of them trail in with quiet “sorry for the intrusion”s. Kenma tucks both of his hands in his sweatshirt pocket, and Tetsurou knows he’s messing with his cubes. He doesn’t like outings like this much.

 _“Lyovochka!”_  Someone barrels into Lev with all the speed and power of a bullet, lifting him in a tight, spinning hug.

As he’s set down, Lev giggles–  _giggles!_  –at the girl who just attacked him with arguably the most enthusiastic hug Tetsurou has ever seen. “Lisichka! Why didn’t you all tell me you were taking an earlier flight? I would have come home!”

“It was Dad’s idea to surprise you since you’ve been having so much fun without us and–”

“Congrats on finally getting gold at worlds–”

The two of them chatter over each other for a moment before the girl fixes her gaze on the three of them. She looks friendly, but guarded. Distrustful.

“These are your friends from volleyball?”

Lev blinks, looking unsure of how to respond to that (which is a mystery in itself; Tetsurou was fairly sure he thought of them all as friends), but that was when Yaku finally decided to speak up.

“That’s right.” Lev’s face brightens like a cloud moving away from the sun, but Yaku continues. “My name is Morisuke Yaku, I’m the team’s–”

“Libero. Yes, I know you, Yaku-san.” The woman looks at him carefully before turning her gaze to Tetsurou and Kenma. “You’re Kenma-san and captain-san, right? Lev has told us all about you.”

Tetsurou can’t help it; he snorts in amusement and holds out his hand for the woman to shake. _Captain-san? Really, Lev?_  “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, also known as captain-san.”

The woman shakes his hand, but doesn’t lose her guarded, polite expression. Considering what he’s suspecting about Lev before he came to Nekoma (given all these odd reactions to their team’s relationship with Lev, Tetsurou has a few puzzle pieces that are fitting together to form a picture that makes his blood boil) he doesn’t expect her to lose that defensiveness any time soon, and he isn’t taking it personally. If he’s even partially right, she’s right not to.

“Haiba Alisa,” she says as she shakes Tetsurou’s hand. “I’m Lev’s older sister.”

Victor has disappeared into the next room with Lev. Alisa leads Tetsurou, Kenma, and Yaku after them into a frankly massive kitchen and dining room. “I’ll have dinner ready soon, so just make yourselves at home in the meantime.”

She approaches the slightly shorter, black-haired man standing at the stove. “Papa, I’ll take over from here. Go meet Lev’s friends, I know you’re dying to.”

The man hands her the spatula without argument and turns to them, smiling. He has an innocent sort of face, Tetsurou notices, with wide eyes and longish black hair that falls gently over his glasses. He smiles at them, not bright like his son or husband, but calm. Happy.

He bows. “I am Yuuri. Welcome, I hope you like food because I may have gone slightly overboard.”

Tetsurou’s eyes widen in surprise. He looks over at Yaku, who looks back at him, equally amazed. They’re thinking the same thing.  _How on earth is this one of the members of this crazy family?_

When Yuuri straightens out again and notices their surprise, he laughs, quiet and musical. “You’re wondering why they keep someone like me around, right?” His eyes glint mischievously. “Well, to be honest, they all just latched on and wouldn’t let go no matter what I tried.”

 _“Yuu_ -ri, why are you so mean?” Victor whines, wrapping his arms around his husband and pouting. Lev and Alisa make an offended noise, but don’t seem particularly upset.

Yuuri rolls his eyes fondly, but pays him no mind, and Tetsurou gets the feeling this is a fairly normal occurrence. “So! You’re members of the volleyball team, right?”

“Yes sir,” Yaku says politely. “I’m Yaku Morisuke, the libero.”

He looks at Tetsurou expectantly, but Tetsurou sees the expression in Yuuri’s eyes. “You already know all of our names  _and_ positions, don’t you sir?”

At that, Yuuri bursts out laughing and Lev blushes on the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry, that was very rude of me,” he says, giggling. “But you’re right, Kuroo-kun. Lev tells us all about his teammates over video chat.”

Oh, Tetsurou  _loves_ this guy. He’s tricky. “Let me guess. Yaku is the short angry one, Kenma has _‘really cool hair’_  and I’m the captain-san that’s always with Kenma.”

Yuuri nods in amusement when Lev squeaks in embarrassment. “You know him very well, Kuroo-kun.”

Tetsurou can read Yaku like a book and the look he sends Lev promises  _hours_ of receiving drills in the next few days for that description of him. It’s funny though; of the members of the team, Yaku is the most (secretly) fond of Lev. Which, Tetsurou suspects, is the reason he puts the poor kid through the ringer so often.

The next hour continues like that, with most of them poking fun at Lev and his family catching him up. Yaku, Tetsurou, and Kenma are shot the occasional question about how Lev is in volleyball (“I’m the ace!” “No, that’s Kuroo.” “So mean, Yaku-san!”) and how he is in school (surprisingly well; despite being a completely oblivious airhead, Lev takes his studies seriously, Tetsurou has noticed), as well as how he’s getting along with everyone.

After they finish eating, Alisa pulls Tetsurou aside and asks to speak with him privately.

“Look, Kuroo-san. I like you. You seem like a great guy and you have a sense of responsibility. So I’m going to trust you with this.”

The conversation that follows makes the final puzzle piece click into place, and Tetsurou can’t remember the last time he was so  _angry_ to be right about something. But he shoves that aside and reassures Alisa that her brother is in good hands before they go inside and rejoin the group.


	8. Chapter 8

The first time Yuuri meets Lev’s friends, he’s inexplicably charmed. **  
**

There’s the small one, who Yuuri correctly assumes is Yaku, and he looks awkward. He would probably prefer to be anywhere but here at the moment, and honestly? Yuuri can’t bring himself to be offended. Meeting a (from the way they look at each other when they think the other isn’t looking… potential boy?)friend’s parents is always awkward.

Then there’s the captain, who reminds Yuuri a bit of Mila in all the best ways. He takes Alisa’s defensiveness like a champ and comes back from her obligatory shovel talk looking more protective than defensive.

And finally, Kenma, whose last name is actually Kozume but who seems to have no patience for honorifics. Yuuri heard all about him when Lev first started volleyball. Kenma is everything Lev isn’t: calm, quiet, strategic. But one thing he and Lev (and Yuuri) have in common is the one thing Yuuri would never wish upon anyone.

He’d hoped originally that Lev was exaggerating Kenma’s anxiety, that perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it appeared or that maybe Lev was seeing symptoms where there are none to be seen. But when he sets eyes on Kenma (and, consequently, Kuroo; it doesn’t take long to figure out that they’re a set), he sees. He sees the quiet boy stick close to Kuroo, clutching his sleeve without even realizing. His free hand stays in his jacket pocket unless he’s using it for something and Yuuri would bet his medals that he’s using the cubes Yuuri gave him.

Later in the night, when the dishes are done and there’s a lull in conversation– or as much of a lull as there ever is; Victor and Lev are still chatting quietly –Kenma tugs on Kuroo’s sleeve, looking up at him with wide eyes that make Yuuri want to squish his cheeks.

He doesn’t, of course; that would be wildly inappropriate.

It’s not the last time any of them are over; now that the season is over and Yurio isn’t around all the time to scare off Lev’s friends, it’s as if their house becomes one of the bases of operations. Lev claims that it’s because of their massive living room and TV, so it’s easier for strategy meetings, but Yuuri can’t help but think that it’s because he’s finally found his niche.

Generally, it’s the same three boys that come over, because they tend to stay the longest at practice. Occasionally it’s only one or two, or other members of the team, but all three of them come home with Lev more often than not. With a little patient prodding, Yuuri discovers that Kenma is a mochi  _monster_ , and can eat more ice cream in ten minutes than Yuuri could probably handle in a week. Kuroo is witty and unerringly sharp, despite the way he tries to portray himself; he reminds Yuuri of Victor. He learns that Yaku’s favorite dish is stir fried vegetables (which he uses as an excuse to cook them, since he’s partial to them as well).

After a month of this routine, or lack thereof, Yuuri is surprised to be pulled aside by Kenma. The boy’s hair hangs in front of his eyes, as it usually does when he talks to Yuuri alone. Yuuri doesn’t take it personally.

He squirms for a second before taking a deep breath. Yuuri waits, giving him time to gather his thoughts, and he’s rewarded with a quiet “Thank you. For the cubes. They help a lot in class.”

“Oh.” Yuuri is surprised, but he smiles. Kenma is nearly his height, and he’s glad he doesn’t have to look up or down at him. “Of course. They were Lev’s idea, though.”

Kenma nods a little. “I know. I’ve… I’ve thanked him already. But you were the one who bought them, so. Thanks. And… thank you for letting me and Kuro impose so often.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, for any reason,” Yuuri says automatically, sensing Kenma’s discomfort. “We love having you all here, it makes the place even livelier.”

When Kenma nods, but still doesn’t meet his eyes, Yuuri takes a small risk. He puts a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I mean it, Kenma-kun. You’re a pleasure to have you over. Even if you just need somewhere to get away from the world, all you have to do is knock.”

He can tell he’s hit the nail on the head when Kenma’s shoulders tense. “Kuro… Kuro said you might be able to help me? With anxiety. If that’s alright. I don’t want to put you out–”

“Put that thought out of your head right now,” Yuuri says firmly. “Of course I’ll do whatever I can to help you, Kenma.”  _You have no idea how much you’ve helped **my** family._

It takes more reassurance on Yuuri’s end, and some mental preparation on Kenma’s, but he slowly opens up. He tells Yuuri about his color system with Kuroo (which is ingenious, in Yuuri’s opinion; if he’d thought of that he may have had an easier time all those years ago) and about how, despite how much Kuroo tries to help, he doesn’t really know how.

Yuuri has Kuroo talk to Victor about that, discreetly.

After all that, they start spending even more time at the Kastuki-Nikiforov-Haiba home, sometimes without even using volleyball as an excuse. Lev is ecstatic to have his friends over so often, and Yuuri makes sure to keep extra mochi in the house.

Kuroo asks him to stop enabling his boyfriend’s mochi addiction.

Lev says Kenma has never agreed to toss to him this often before.

Yuuri keeps buying mochi.

When he’s feeling especially brave or it’s a particularly green day, Kenma will be the one to approach Yuuri, asking shyly for advice about  _something_.

Once it’s about whether Yuuri agrees with his parents about his “unhealthy” gaming habits (“Not at all! I played a lot of games and I think I turned out just fine, don’t you?”). He brings up being a burden on their household several times, claiming that he spends more time here or at Kuroo’s than he does at home (“As long as your relationship with your parents isn’t suffering, that isn’t a problem”). One particularly memorable time, he asks in a very small voice if Yuuri thinks he’s too dependent on Kuroo, because a teacher mentioned it today in school after separating them in a group project.

“Of course not!”

It’s not Yuuri that answers him that time, but Lev. He seems to have wandered into the kitchen for a snack, but stops when he hears Kenma’s question.

Kenma looks at Lev with wide, shocked eyes, but Lev hurries on. “Clinging on to something that makes you feel better isn’t a bad thing, Kenma-san! All it means is that you have a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Kuroo-san is to you what… what skating is to Papa, right? Or what volleyball is to me! And if Kuroo-san or skating or volleyball are our reasons, so be it.”  
  
And with that vaguely heartbreaking (to Yuuri at least) statement, Lev grabs a soda from the fridge and walks back out to play Mario Party with Kuroo, Yaku, and Kuroo’s friend Bokuto (who’s been showing up more frequently lately) without another word. Kenma looks floored. Yuuri can relate.

“What he said,” Yuuri says lamely, opening the freezer and pulling out a mochi ball for Kenma.

But surprises and anxieties aside, they’re a good group of kids, and Yuuri couldn’t have asked for better upperclassmen or better friends for his son.

So when Lev approaches him in the summer, waving around a permission slip for a volleyball field trip to training camp, Yuuri and Victor sign off without hesitation for the first time in their lives. The  _whoop_ that he releases is loud enough to wake the dead (read: his Uncle Yuri) and he rushes to pack his bags, much to Yuuri’s amusement.

“Lev, the camp doesn’t start for another week!”


	9. Chapter 9

While he wouldn’t say they’re the  _worst_ things that he has to deal with, Kenma would definitely say that training camps rank within the top three. Maybe five, now that he’s finally aware of how they work. But they’re still up there with concerts (too loud, to many people, too many lights) and class presentations (too many eyes, all on him, watching his every move) with his worst experiences. Still, he goes because he has to go for the team, and he has to be on the team for Kuro.

And... maybe he wants to play against Shouyou again.

He sleeps through most of the bus ride to the camp, with Kuro’s arm around his shoulders and his headphones in to drown out the noise. When the bus stops and he’s forced to wake up, he takes a mental note. Yellow. Not bad, the best he could ask for, all things considered. He doubts, as he drops off his bag and heads to the gym, that he’ll be green all week. He goes with the team to warm up in the gym, still thinking.

_I wonder when Karasuno and Fukurodani are going to--_

“Bro!”

“Bro!”

 _Well, there’s one,_  he thinks, shaking his head fondly. Kuro and Bokuto are idiots, but at least they’re loveable idiots. While they do their dumb (they know it’s dumb) “bro ritual” hello, he heads over to Taketora to start warming up.

About a half an hour later, Karasuno arrives… quietly. Kenma only even looks up because he catches a glimpse of their senior setter’s unmistakable hair.   
  
“Where’s Shouyou?” he wonders quietly, not meaning to be heard.

Taketora apparently heard some kind of news about him and the scary setter needing to take supplementary exams, and Kenma lets out a quiet “oh” in response because apparently, even monsters like Shouyou and his setter are human.

It’s only after they’ve started drills that Kenma notices Lev sitting on the bench, staring intensely at the Karasuno third years, who look mildly uncomfortable.

_That’s right, they haven’t met him yet._

“Lev,” he says, only raising his voice enough to get the boy’s attention.

Lev’s eyes snap over to him instantly and Kenma holds out a volleyball with both hands in a silent offer to toss to him. He almost winces at the brightness of Lev’s answering smile.

About an hour later, the door slams open and then people are yelling. Kenma can only be grateful that the ball is in his hands now, and that his flinch doesn’t cause him to mess up a toss. Once he gets over his initial shock though, he glances at the door. Sure enough, there’s Shouyou, right next to his terrifying setter.

Everything after that is a bit of a blur for a while. They play a few practice games, and Kenma curses the fact that he and the first years are still a bit off in their timing, because it costs them the second set in one game, which means more diving drills. They’re nothing they aren’t used to; after all, Nekoma is only famous for its receiving. That doesn’t mean that Kenma likes expending energy to throw himself onto the ground a hundred times.

Still, he supposes he doesn’t have it as bad as Karasuno, who seems to be losing every single one of their games.

They make it to dinner without incident, Kenma sticking close to Kuro’s side the way he always does during these camps. Kuro is a lot of things, but charismatic isn’t one of them; people tend to avoid him. And if the price of avoiding strangers is having to deal with Bokuto and, surprisingly, Lev, then it’s a price that Kenma is more than willing to pay. Besides, where Bokuto goes, Akaashi tends to follow, and he’s not bad company at all.

Around his third or fourth plate of food (Kenma would wonder where he puts it all, but with people that size he never really can tell), Lev gets up to go to the bathroom. As soon as he’s out of sight, Kuro looks at Kenma, an oddly intent look on his face.

“Have you noticed him acting… weird?”

And… oh. So he wasn’t the only one noticing. Kenma nods, glad that it wasn’t all in his head this time. Lev has been himself for most of the day, but even on the court there were a few instances when his enthusiasm waned today. It threw off their rhythm, but only slightly; Kenma thought he’d been the only one to notice, but he should have known. Kuro is a pretty observant guy.

Now that he thinks about it, though… Lev was at his worst today when they were up against Shinzen. He wrote it off originally as not knowing how to deal with their famous combo attacks, but that can’t be all it is.

A quick glance around their immediate area confirms his suspicions. Shinzen seems to have finished their diving drills for the moment, and is sitting down as a group at the table next to them. For once in his life, Kenma stares, combatting his unease with his PSP.

They’re nothing special. At least, not that he can tell.

But then the captain-- Shouyou had called him… Broccoli Head? It’s fitting, Kenma admits --catches him staring, and grins back. As it happens, he’s sitting closest to Bokuto, which puts him right within Kenma’s field of vision.

And, apparently, within earshot. “You’re a hell of a setter, you know.”

Something about him  _really_  doesn’t sit right. Kenma averts his eyes to his game again, hoping the guy will take the hint.

He doesn’t. “You’ve gotta be, to use that freak’s height so well.”

It’s not the first time Lev has been called a freak. Hell, the team’s called him that more than a few times, because he really is freakishly tall for a first year. But this guy’s voice is completely devoid of the affection their teammates have.

Kenma pauses his game and looks up at the guy again, blinking in a way that conveys his confusion. He doesn’t really want to talk to him any more than he has to. Doesn’t think he really  _can_.

“He’s always been weirdly tall, you know, even in middle school. Just never knew what to do with it because no one wanted to be around him.” Luckily or unluckily, this guy seems to be doing enough talking for the both of them. For all of them, actually; Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kuro have all stopped to listen. “I’m amazed you can actually put up with him, you’re such a quiet dude.”

Oh, wow. He’s disliking this guy more and more, and he’s not the only one. Bokuto looks uncharacteristically somber, and Kuro has tensed up beside him. Out the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of silver hair hovering by the door (and he  _knows_ Karasuno is still doing drills so there’s only one person it could be).

“He’s so  _loud,_  you know? Can’t take a hint to save his life, and add that to the thing with his  _dads--_ ” He spits the word out like venom and keeps talking, but Kenma’s done listening. He won’t allow it to continue.

Kenma can hear his own pulse and he knows he’s going to have to have a proper freakout about this later, but he ignores it in favor of pulling Kuro down to eye level with him and planting a firm kiss on his lips. Kenma is 99% sure that Bokuto wasn’t aware that was a cue, but he takes it anyway, wolf whistling and  _whoop_ -ing loudly enough to get the entire room’s attention and start a chain reaction of cheers that don’t die down for a long moment.

He’s trembling when he pulls away, but the shaking doesn’t reach his voice when he speaks. “I don’t  _put up_  with him.  _All_ of my friends are loud and can’t take a hint. But none of them are you, so I think I’m doing pretty well for myself.”

Kenma thinks that maybe the shaking is worth the utterly floored look on the guy’s face and the quiet, approving grin he’s getting from the rest of the table as Lev sits back down, looking grateful and infinitely more comfortable.


	10. Chapter 10

Shouyou only realizes he’s staring when Kageyama smacks him in the back of the head and tells him to quit glaring. And  _honestly_. As if he has any room to talk.

“You were so excited to see your friend, why don’t you go say hi?” Suga suggests in his quiet way.

And Shouyou appreciates the thought but honestly he doesn’t think they understand his problem. He waited all this time for Kenma’s scary boyfriend to leave him alone but even when he disappeared with the ace spiker that looks like an owl and his angry setter, the giant silver guy, Lev, stayed behind with Kenma and Shouyou does  _not_ want to be crushed.

“He’s  _huge_ ,” Shouyou laments, wondering if he’s  _ever_ going to be able to say hello to his friend for real, instead of just on the court.

Yamaguchi is giving him the oddest look and Shouyou can’t tell if it’s because he’s amused or confused but it’s weird. “You mean Lev? But he’s harmless!”

“So you’ve met him too! He’s so  _huge_ though, and he was glaring at me earlier and made fun of me for being short.” Shouyou pouts at the floor, somewhat annoyed (not for the first time) that he’s the second shortest player at the camp.

“He probably didn’t mean it,” Yamaguchi assures him. “Right, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima gives his boyfriend the most long-suffering look Shouyou has seen on him in a while. “You  _are_ short. Why wouldn’t he say something about it?”

“Exactly! Lev just says things how he sees them, you’ll like him a lot, Hinata!” Yamaguchi beams and Shouyou is stuck wondering if he’s just been insulted or encouraged.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there considering his options (and wondering whether he should be offended or not) before Kageyama speaks up again through a mouth full of food. “Why do you know so much about him?”

After deciphering a lot of blushing and stuttering and something about social media that Shouyou doesn’t completely understand, he manages to decipher that Yamaguchi (and, to some extent, Tsukishima) taught Lev to play volleyball in the first place. That’s all he manages to pry out of them though, no matter how much he begs Yamaguchi.

Eventually Kageyama gets tired of Shouyou’s whining though, and all but throws him at the grassy area where Kenma and Lev are sitting. Shouyou takes it in stride though, bouncing over to his friend cheerfully and barely noticing the slightly uncomfortable pressure on his chest.

“Kenma!” he says at what he thinks is a perfectly reasonable volume despite his excitement. He feels a little guilty about Kenma’s slight flinch, but when his face smooths over into a tiny smile, the feeling dissipates. “I didn’t get to talk to you before.”

“Hi,” Kenma says, as quietly as he usually does. “Shouyou, Lev. Lev, Shouyou.”

Lev looks at Shouyou with wide eyes. “You’re the tiny one! You’re friends with Kenma?”

There’s something not  _quite_ normal in Kenma’s voice, the way he sometimes sounds on Skype after a bad day. “Yeah! Kenma and me met at the last training camp. Have you been on the team all year?”

Lev says he has, and he and Shouyou get to talking, and then suddenly it’s sunset. Shouyou is the first to admit that he’s kind of an idiot, but even he knows that Kenma doesn’t really want to be included in the discussion right now. But Lev, this giant silver boy, is great. He hates to say that Yamaguchi and Tsukishima are right about anything, ever, but this guy speaks Shouyou’s language of excitement and sound effects.

“And when you hit the ball with that crazy whip spike it’s like--”

 _“Fwoosh,”_  they say at the same time, with equal excitement.

“But you’re so  _bouncy_ , that’s gotta be  _so_ cool, like--”

He and Lev lock eyes.  _“Gwaah!”_

“That’s exactly it,” Shouyou says, a little,  _tiny_ bit winded. “And getting-- getting a spike through a triple block is-- is like--”

“Shouyou.” This time it’s Kenma talking over him, tone as gentle as ever, but slightly louder than normal so he’s heard.

Shouyou and Lev both shut up immediately, and Shouyou winces when he notices that Kenma is looking at his shoulders, rather than his face.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t change before your practice matches today.” It’s not a question, but a confirmation of a suspicion.

Shouyou looks at the ground, rubbing sheepishly at the strap on his shoulder. “There wasn’t time before my match--”

“Shouyou.” Kenma still sounds as gentle as ever, but there’s a firmness there that Shouyou knows won’t be going away anytime soon. “Please.”

There’s no use arguing with him about this; Shouoyou knows from experience. He stands up with a wince-- the grassy hill isn’t the most comfortable and it’s been… nearly ten hours since he got dressed this morning so he’ll allow that Kenma is right for now --and smiles at Lev.

“I’ll see you later!” Something occurs to him right as he’s turning to head down the hill toward the room he’s staying in, and he turns back. “Also, you might want to say hi to Yamaguchi, he looked like he was too shy earlier.”

“Yamaguchi is here?” Lev looks like an excited puppy again, and Shouyou has to wonder at his choice in friends.

A gentle tug on the hem of his shirt stops him one more time, and this time it’s Kenma staring at him with wide golden eyes largely hidden by his bangs. “Don’t wear it during practice, Shouyou. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I just forgot, don’t worry so much Kenma!” He knows Kenma doesn’t believe him, but it really was just because he forgot today. It’s not  _that_ big a deal, as long as he changes pretty soon.

Luckily (or maybe not luck but timing, since people are still eating dessert and not coming back to their rooms), when he gets to the room he’s staying in, there’s no one there yet. Shouyou strips as quickly as he dares, feeling the pressure of his binder release finally.  _Noya-san and Suga-san aren’t going to find out about this,_ he tells himself, grinning wryly as he imagines the inevitable scolding he’d get. That he’s  _going_ to get, when Kageyama finds even half a second without other people around, because he’ll remember pretty soon that Shouyou was supposed to change into a sports bra before playing.

As he’s reaching for his shirt again, the door opens.

“No, Lisochka, I promise we got here fine, stop worrying so much--” Lev blinks at Shouyou, who freezes, wide-eyed and completely exposed other than the shirt hanging uselessly in his hand. “Oh sorry man, let me know when you’re done.”

And just like that, he closes the door and continues his conversation on the other side. Shouyou lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. It all took less than fifteen seconds, but he can’t help his relief that it’s over.

Then Shouyou realizes that, well, at the very least it’s one more person who knows and (probably?) accepts him, even if he would have liked to have the choice to tell his new friend on his own time. He pulls his pajama shirt on, forgoing anything underneath because he’s going to fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow tonight and doesn’t want to have to change.

He bounces out of the room with most of his usual energy, not completely eager to go out and face… this whole situation, only to run bodily into Lev, who’s standing outside the door with a mildly irritated Noya-san.

“But he’s changing, I shouldn’t let anyone-- oh! Hi, Hinata! You done?” Lev peers down at him, phone in hand as if he’d only recently hung up.

Shouyou nods and looks curiously at Noya-san, who’s holding an overnight bag. “Are you in this room too, Noya-san?”

The libero smiles brightly at him. “I am! If you’re done, I’d really like to change now, too because people are going to be  _swarming_ soon.”

“Of course!” Shouyou almost adds that Noya-san could have just come in-- it’s not as though they aren’t on the same team, or don’t get changed in the same room almost daily. Then he realizes that Lev must have been keeping him out, for Shouyou’s privacy.

He smiles at the giant boy, who looks content that he did a good job defending his new friend’s honor. “We’re going to have a lot of fun this week, Lev!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~hi so you can pry confident trans hinata trans noya out of my cold dead hands thank~~


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the douche from 2 chapters ago is back, for the last time. fair warning for the same homophobia as last time, and also some transphobia. comparatively to some fics, it's fairly mild and only for about four "paragraphs"
> 
> if you need to skip it, stop at "Bokuto stammers and flushes, sputtering something that sounds vaguely like an apology" and ctrl+f to "Kei doesn’t thank volleyball for much"
> 
> be safe everybody, and relish in the fact that this is the last time this douchenozzle is showing up! ^.^

“So, your friend and the blond manager seem really close, are they… you know…?”

Some no-name member of another team has been trying to make friends with Kei for some reason, and it’s getting increasingly irritating that the guy can’t take a hint. They’re headed in the same direction, apparently; Kei is heading back from his shower after blocking practice with Kuroo and his friend Bokuto.

“No,” Kei snaps, exasperated.

He’s not dense enough to miss the look of realization that crosses the guy’s face. “Oh! Is she dating  _you_ then?”

Kei does his very best to keep from gritting his teeth in irritation. _I’m a good person,_  he tells himself, _I don’t deserve to be mistaken for a heterosexual._

“No one. Is dating. Our managers.” He manages to get the words out without too much venom, because Daichi will have him benched if he starts a fight.

Not that he cares, it would just be a waste of time for him to be here and not be playing.

The guy keeps rambling and Kei is left wondering if he really just has no friends on his  _own_ team to annoy, or if he just pissed them all off. He’d been looking forward to some peace and quiet when Hinata and Nishinoya left to get changed while the rooms were relatively empty (at least, that’s what he  _assumes_ Hinata was doing when he vanished inside earlier), and even Tanaka had gone to… be an idiot with his friends, probably.

But then Yamaguchi left to go practice his serves in the gym, and Kei was left without a buffer for the rest of their insane team. He did what any logical person would do, then, and walked away, heading to another gym (because  _Tadashi_ is keeping these practices a  _secret_ and  _no_ , Kei isn’t upset by this at all, it’s  _perfectly_ reasonable). It’s only day one and he’s doing his best to maintain his sanity at least until day five.

This guy is throwing a wrench in those plans, so Kei tries again to do what  _any logical person would do_ , and heads to the room he’s supposed to be staying in. It’s not even all that out of place; everyone seems to be turning in for the night. But this guy  _just keeps following him._

“Oh! You’re in this room too?”

_I am a good person who doesn’t deserve this._

Kei grits his teeth this time with an audible “tch” noise that he didn’t mean to make before opening the door.

“Haven’t you run out of relatives yet?”

“You’ve gotten like four calls already!”

“I have a lot of uncles, ok?”

_I am a **good** person. I do not  **deserve** this._

“Tsukishima! Hey man, are people finally coming in?”

Nishinoya is, somehow, actually more irritating than Hinata when they’re off the court. And yet, he’d still rather deal with the both of them at once than deal with this guy any longer.

And then there’s Lev.

“Whoa, Tsukishima! Long time no see!” He beams and wow. That’s much more blinding in person than it is through a screen. Kei braces himself for an onslaught of excited rambling that will worsen his already irritating headache, and is incredibly confused when that grin, along with the color in his face, disappears.

“Oh. It’s  _you_.” Whatever-his-name-is scowls.

How interesting, Kei thinks, that Lev seems to know pretty much everyone already. Even more interesting is that this _ridiculously annoying kid_  from some no-name school seems to have a crappy enough personality to actually dislike Lev. Even Kei doesn’t actually hate the kid, despite how irritating he can be; he has to wonder about this guy’s basis.

Hinata gasps. “Broccoli head!”

And of course he already has a stupid nickname for the guy. Because of course he does, because he’s Hinata and he’s irritating. Kei digs deep for more patience to deal with this room full of loud people. Then the door behind him slams open and Kei is reminded that it’s six people per room, and there are only five.

“What is  _up,_  my dudes?”

Kei physically has to stop himself from grimacing when Bokuto claps him on the back. “Tsukishima! Lev! Holy shit, and Nishinoya and Chibi-chan! This is gonna be great!”

It doesn’t escape Kei that “Broccoli Head” visibly stiffens when Bokuto arrives, and that Bokuto’s addressed everyone  _but_ him. There’s got to be some history there Kei doesn’t know, and he’s mildly curious; Lev and Bokuto are similar to Hinata in that, as obnoxious and irritating as they are, they’re friends with pretty much everyone. And yet, here’s someone that they both dislike, and who dislikes them in turn.

Kei shrugs off Bokuto’s hand in irritation; interesting though this situation may be, he’s still annoyed with the way today’s gone. Bokuto just laughs, and Kei realizes with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that this isn’t the last time this week he’s going to be the reason Bokuto is laughing. _I am a good person. I–_

“Aw, are you still pouting that your boyfriend ditched you,  _Tsukki?_ ”

_–don’t deserve this._

Kei pushes up his glasses and smirks at Bokuto sharply enough to cut glass. He’s only known the guy for a few hours, but Kei already knows which buttons to push. “Not at all. He’s free to train wherever and whenever he wants. But I’d prefer you not call me that…  _Bokuto-san._ ”

The result is immediate: Bokuto stammers and flushes, sputtering something that sounds vaguely like an apology. That’s the result Kei is  _expecting_. The one that’s less expected is “Broccoli Head” scowling and looking exasperated.

“–seemed so  _cool_ ,” Kei hears him mutter to himself. He looks up at the room at large, but Kei notices his eyes lingering on Nishinoya and Hinata. “Is there a single straight person in this room?”

 _So that’s why they don’t like him. Understandable._  His own temper is rising again, almost to breaking point. But it’s hard for Kei not to snort when everyone looks at each other for confirmation. Then, as if they rehearsed it, everyone says “Nope” at the same time.

He shakes his head and pushes his glasses up again when they slide a bit. “What did you expect? It’s boys’ volleyball.”

“Well Karasuno is a co-ed team, right?” He’s still looking at Nishinoya and Hinata, who look back in confusion. The dude– whose name Kei still hasn’t figured out –laughs a little and gestures at them. “I mean, come on. You’re an interesting team, but it’s not  _all_ boys.”

Kei doesn’t thank volleyball for much; it’s just a stupid club, a way to pass the time. But he has to be grateful for his newfound reflexes, because it makes it  _so much easier_  to punch this guy directly in the nose.

 _It’s not because I care about them_ , he tells himself later, as Bokuto is corroborating the story that it was entirely, one-hundred-percent provoked (with some helpful input from that Nekoma setter, Kenma, who’s shaking and looks like he’s about to have a breakdown but stubbornly insists on defending Kei for literally breaking a guy’s nose) and talking the coaches out of sending Kei home.

_I’m just a good person, and I didn’t deserve to deal with that douche._


End file.
